Give Me Your Hand
by Hlbur14
Summary: Claudia Thatcher and her sister Martha have overcome the tragedy of their lives and are doing their best to move on. Claudia believed that all the horrors of her life were over. But that was before she met the girl with chocolate brown eyes, an orphan, who is undergoing a life of rejection and heartache. Claudia's bent on fixing her heart, but she's about to have her work cut out.
1. Prologue

**Claudia Thatcher, although still wary of the world she lives in, is finally able to move on with her life. In a somewhat dark way, her life is just a few steps from perfect. She's found love in many shapes and forms, her sister is once again her best friend, and life is about to write itself. But, after recent events, she still has reason to not trust the people around her, which she finds difficult to control when she in thrust into an era of new faces. **

**Alexandra Ray, a girl of seven years old, is yet to find her perfect way in life. With her father gone and her mother taken away, she finds herself in a foster home, and is less than welcome. Confused, frightened and love sick, she longs to find her parents again, but there is no way she can do that alone. But the girl with ocean blue eyes and close-to-black hair invades her dreams, and deep down, Alexandra believes that maybe, just maybe, there is hope for her yet. **

**Can Claudia, Peter and Gwen help Alexandra find her way in life? Or will they be pulled down into the darkness of what is reality?**

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**I couldn't wait any longer, I missed the characters too much! So they're back, along with some new faces :) I decided not to use any super villains, but only because I don't know their backgrounds very well :) Thank you guys for supporting the idea of a sequel :D **

**So here it is, the sequel to Don't Let Me Fall:**

**Give Me Your Hand**

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Alexandra Ray couldn't shake the memory of the girl with deep blue eyes. It had been three months since she had seen that girl, the one who had looked at her with empty eyes. There was something about her that Alexandra couldn't understand, even if she was just seven years old. She remembered her so vividly, the dark beauty walking past her, their eyes meeting and sharing a look of ice. Alexandra should have been intimidated by the girl, who at the time had been in a black jumper with a hood, skinny jeans hugging her slender legs. But it was the darkness of her beauty that captivated her, and she had even dreamt about her since seeing her.

Alexandra stared at her mother, Zoe Ray, who was sitting on the armchair with her knees to her chest. She was staring blankly at the fire, listening to the cackling sounds it created. Zoe was damaged, so very damaged. Alexandra just couldn't understand what was wrong with her, and she didn't know where her daddy was. Her mommy wouldn't tell her. She had been like this ever since the day the blue eyed girl caught Alexandra's eye. The day she knew, deep down, that her daddy wasn't coming home.

"Mommy? I'm hungry." Alexandra murmured, watching her mother with big, hungry brown orbs. Zoe made no effort to move, and the child was certain that she hadn't heard her. So, in all innocence, she repeated her statement.

"I don't care!" she shouted, making Alexandra cringe, tears flooding across her eyes. Mommy never cared that Alexandra was hungry anymore. So, as quietly as possible, Alexandra moved herself from her spot on the floor, dashing out of the room. She stumbled into the kitchen, her hands trembling as she reached for the handle of the fridge. She was so hungry. For the last week, she had lived off of potato chips and biscuits, but they were becoming a shortage in the house. Gazing into the fridge, she wanted to cry at its bareness. Clutching her burning stomach, she closed it.

Alexandra was rapidly losing weight, and with that she was becoming incredibly weak. She hadn't had a proper meal in a very long time. Why wouldn't her mommy give her a nice meal? Alexandra was just a scavenger now, feeding on whatever was edible. Hopping weakly onto the counter, she opened what of the cupboards, staring at the single cereal box full of _Shreddies_. It would have to do. She grabbed the box somewhat possessively, ripping it open and snagging at its content. She stuffed it straight into her mouth, choking slightly for eating it too quickly.

Alexandra, in her earlier days, had been a stunning looking child. She had incredibly big eyes, orbs like pools of chocolate. Her skin was fair, but not too pail, her cheeks nice and plump. Her hair used to fall past the small of her back in chocolate waves, always glossy and beautiful. But not now. Her face was thinning, paling, bags coating the skin under her eyes. Mommy kept her up at night because of her wailing. The life was beginning to drain from her once warm brown eyes, and her playful nature was simply no more. Her hair was no longer clean and stunning, looking more like rags on her head. But she didn't care about her appearance. She was too busy starving and missing her mommy and daddy.

The wailing was beginning already. Alexandra took comfort in the kitchen, holding her hands to her ears while clutching the box between her knees on the counter. Zoe was screaming for her husband, John, again. She was begging with no one for him to come back. Alexandra wished he would come back, just to stop her screaming.

But this evening was different.

Her wails were short lived, for there was a pounding on the door. Maybe it was daddy, coming home at long last! The box of cereal fell to the ground, its contents scattering across the floor, as Alexandra leapt from the counter. She leapt for the door, yanking down on the handle and trying to open it.

It was locked.

Whimpers of desperation fell from her lips. She got to her tiptoes and tried to reach for the lock, her mother's wails beginning to deafen her for she had picked up the volume in response to the knocking. Alexandra strained and strained, biting her lip as her fingers brushed the lock. When she got a hold of it she jumped up, turning it in the brief moment that her feet left the ground. But she still had the latch to open. _The door's nearly open, daddy. Don't go yet, daddy! _

She strained on her toes again, grasping the chain and trying to pull it across. With great effort, she achieved her goal, yanking open the door with what strength she had left. When she saw who it was, she wanted to sob. It wasn't her daddy.

A woman in a grey suit stood on the other side, two men in black suits of either side of her. Alexandra didn't have time to cry. One look at the child was enough for the adults to spring into action. The woman moved inside, using her body to move the child back into the kitchen. Zoe began to scream louder when the men entered the living room. Tears fell down Alexandra's face, and the woman got down on her hunches and looked up at her.

"Everything's going to be okay, now." She told the child, forcing a smile.

"I'm hungry. Mommy won't stop screaming. Why isn't daddy home?" the child wept, looking past the woman's shoulder and gawping at what she saw. Her mother was being dragged out of the house, seemingly against her will. The child's instant reaction was to lunge after her, trying to barge past the woman. "_Mommy!_"

The woman held onto her frail form with care, as if afraid she might break.

"Mommy's very sick, sweetie. She's going somewhere where she can get some help."

"I want to go with her! Mommy!"

"You'll see mommy again, she's only going away for a little while. Come on, sweetie, let's get you a nice hot meal down you." the woman picked the child up, ignoring her flailing and screaming for her mother. In silence she took the child to her black car, climbing into the back seat with her while a man started the engine in the front. Alexandra simply shrieked in fright and desperation, pounding on the glass of the car while she watched the car containing her mother drive away.

She stopped screaming soon enough, a half hour into the drive. Instead, she said in silence, her face blank, sniffling in the aftermath of her tears. Now her mommy was gone, too. She fell asleep, and for reasons she couldn't understand, the blue eyed girl invaded her dreams, her eyes looking as empty as she now felt.

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**You know what to do! :D**


	2. Girl

**Ladies and gentlemen, she's back ;)**

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I was sitting beside my mom and dad's grave stone, a sketch book on my folded legs as I drifted a pencil across the paper. I wasn't sure what exactly I was drawing, but it soon turned out to be half of a face, the other half in shadow. Recently, I took comfort in drawing, a talent I had recently discovered. I drew Martha at home, testing my abilities that she had no problem with. I drew Peter Parker, A.K.A Spiderman, constantly, in both of his egos. I drew Gwen Stacy when she wasn't aware, such as when she had her nose in a book.

My gaze shifted from my recently completed drawing and up to the sky. The sun was beaming, hot on my legs and arms. I squinted into the light, brushing my fringe out of my eyes. It was Sunday morning, three months after the events that effectively changed my life along with Martha's. Martha Thatcher was my sister, a twenty two year old blonde who was just settling into training to be a teacher. Martha and I, unlike four months ago, were closer than we ever had been, for she was my whole life and I hers. There was only one person I could begrudgingly thank for that.

Rick Hammond.

If not for him, I wouldn't have acted like the protective sister that I now was. Thanks to him, I showed my true colours I had tried so hard to lock away. I had put my life before Martha's, something I wouldn't have dreamt of doing once upon a time.

But it wasn't just him who somewhat helped me. Two people who I have already mentioned, Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy, came to my unwanted rescue. Peter came along first in the most unlikely circumstance: I tried to commit suicide, and he was there to catch me mid fall. At that time I didn't know who he was, for he had been in the disguise of Spiderman. But, over time, he came to me in his true self, the stubborn boy who shared a few of my classes, and he made it his personal mission to help me. He did, plus making me fall in love with him along the way. Gwen Stacy came along a couple weeks after Peter entered my life, and I haven't regretted it since. She was my best friend, thanks to her stubbornness and the fact that she was my opposite. You know what they say, opposites attract.

However, there was one thing that linked the three of us together in ways that not many friends were bonded. We had also suffered the severe loss of a loved one. Peter was left orphaned at the age of six, and his uncle died just weeks before my parents were killed. I, as just mentioned and hence the grave stone, witnessed the killing of my parents one murky night in an alley way, forever having an effect of my whole personality. And Gwen, she lost her father when he was in the line of duty, the fear of him never coming home coming true.

I looked at the grave stone belonging to my parents, brushing my fingers over the golden writing.

_Mark Thatcher and Ashley Thatcher,_

_Happily married and beloved parents. _

_May they forever rest in peace._

_Ashley – 1__st__ October 1976 – 27__th__ September 2012_

_Mark – 18__th__ February 1974 – 27__th__ September 2012_

And I knew that they could indeed rest in peace, for I had the closure to lean on that Rick was locked away for good. I made sure of it, along with the few people that I loved. And, knowing that justice had at long last been served, I was able to move on with my life, just like Martha was. When I was conscious, I was able to kill the pain that once controlled my life. However, my dreams where the one thing that I wouldn't never be able to escape.

That was why I was here. It was seven in the morning, and I had awoken from my most constant nightmare. The one where I was alone in a warehouse, Rick in front of me, holding a gun to my head: the reverse of what had actually happened. But, as much as I feared the nightmare, I also welcomed it. It was a reminder that I had outsmarted a dangerous man, and I would forever hold that in my heart. But I had learnt of a new way to drown the fear that threatened to take over me again. Instead of settling on a roof top, something I used to be very fond of, I preferred to feel closer to the two people I missed dearly. I visited them with every chance I got, repeatedly reminding myself that they were now resting in eternal peace.

Tomorrow was my first day in college. I wasn't exactly nervous about it, but I was never a fan of change. The only change that agreed with me was when Martha used the money from mom and dad's will to buy us a new home, in an attempt to escape the shadows of our troubled past in our old apartment. So tomorrow would be a somewhat test for me, for I would come up against new faces, something I wasn't very fond of doing. I may have had my revenge on Rick, but that didn't mean I instantly trusted everyone around me. People were the worst if you didn't know what they were capable of. I still clung to the knowledge I refused to ignore: no one was innocent, not even myself. Fact.

Even Peter Parker, the one person who owned my heart, was no saint. The only thing that was a threat of standing between us was the fact that he had had the chance to save my family. But, as much as it pained me to say it, he had been too wrapped up in finding the killer of his uncle rather than helping people who needed him. But, as I quickly learnt, love was a hell of a lot stronger than resentment.

Suddenly, making me jump, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. It was only a recent device I had come to own, for the death of my parents left me being anything but social. But, with some money I was now earning at the local library along with some of Martha's savings, I was able to buy myself the latest Blackberry Curve model. Pulling it out of my pocket, I realised that it was Peter, his face on my screen. I pressed the green phone to the left of the cell.

"Hey you." I said, smiling to myself.

"Hey, beautiful. Where are you? I dropped by your window but you weren't there." he asked, the wind that didn't exist whirling down the phone. I grinned, knowing for a fact that he was swinging somewhere, possible in his alter ego suit.

"Just walking back home from the cemetery." I told him, clambering to my feet, the pencil in my pocket and the notebook under my arm. "Planning an early morning visit?"

"I was, actually. Disappointed." The noise of the air stopped, telling me that he was either on a wall or safely on the ground.

"I'm sure. I'll be home in ten if you're willing to stick around."

"I'm _always _willing to stick around." He said, the grin clear in his voice. "See you in ten."

"Can't wait." I ended the call, feeling lighter than a feather. Peter was incredible for having that effect on me. I had come across many boys in my life, starting from the age of thirteen. Of course, when I was thirteen I was naive and was never really looking for a commitment. But, regrettably, my first kiss had been stolen at that age, followed by many more from many boys. I admit, what with my new perspective on life, that I was a tart back then despite how naive I once was. But that girl was dead, and from the moment I was made somewhat orphaned, I vowed never to love again. But, in actuality, I had never really loved any of those boys in my past life. None of them had had the effect Peter had on me. His touch was like a pleasurable burn, his lips tender but hungry on mine and always leaving me wanting more. My continuous lust for him never dulled, only intensified the more we were together. I had never experienced that kind of lust before Peter Parker.

Also, when I had a 'boyfriend' before my life changed, I never really missed the guy. I barely thought about them. They were just something to show off, much to my shame. But Peter, he was something else. He left me missing him all the time, even when he was just gone for an hour or so. He made me hungry for him, a hunger I was still a stranger to.

A few minutes after talking to him on the phone, I was out of the cemetery and making my way down the back lane towards my apartment. A stylish apartment, it had to be said. But only because Martha and I made sure of it. We made sure that it was fit for family use, especially when Martha now had her eye on some guy at her work. I thought about when she first told me about him, making me grin.

"He's just so... delicious!" she'd crooned, her elbows on our breakfast bar with her head in her hands. I had been sitting on one of the black spinning stools we now own, laughing at her.

"Why don't you just ask him out?" I asked, leaning in towards her.

"Just because you're all loved up!" she said playfully, shoving my shoulder teasingly. I simply laughed.

"All you can do is jump in the pool of possibilities." I said. Then, on a more serious note, I added, "Not every guy out there is a Rick Hammond."

She had merely smiled, smacking a kiss on my forehead. "I know, I know. I'll see you later, sweetie." And with that she had left for work. That exchange had been about two weeks ago, and she still hadn't plucked up the courage to ask the guy out yet. The only thing I knew about him was that he was called Cole Davidson and that he was 'dark and handsome'.

I turned the bend, just a couple minutes away from home now.

"The skirt's cute." I jumped, whirling and looking up at the wall of a building. I laughed, seeing Peter perched on the wall, his limbs apart while wearing that incredibly snug suit and mask. I twirled for him, biting my lip as my black skirt with multicoloured dots flared around my legs. I had grown tired of the skinny jeans and hoodies, especially when they no longer reflected my moods. But they were still there, hung up in my wardrobe ready for the winter. But for now, I was making the most of the summer.

"You like?"

"I love." He hopped down, yanking his mask of and backing me against the wall. I giggled, gazing into his captivating hazel eyes. My arms snaked around his neck, pulling him against me and letting his scent intoxicate me willingly. His arms went around my waist, effectively keeping me locked to him and pinned to the spot. I could feel his strength, his muscles defined through the fabric. I would forever know that he could easily crush me, should his hold be too tight, but I also knew that he would never be that careless. After all, I trusted him with my life, a privilege only he, Martha and Gwen possessed.

"Rough night?" he asked in a low voice. He was the only one that knew of my nightmares. I wasn't a screamer, hence the reason why Martha never knew. And she didn't have to, because there was no reason to worry her, nor Gwen. Peter knew that in order to comfort myself I went to my parents, something he respected with all his might.

"I've had better." I told him, smiling sheepishly. He smiled back, lowering his head and catching my lips in his. Every hair on my body rose with the undying pleasure his kisses gave me, and my hold on him tightened possessively. Like many, it was long and passionate, burning all of my desires for him. His gloved hand went into my hair, his other hand running up and down my back. I was feeling the silkiness of his messy hair, grinning against his mouth.

When we pulled apart but still in each other's arms, we were slightly out of breath, grinning stupidly at one another. He ran his tongue over his lower lip.

"What are you up to today?" he asked, his voice slightly uneven.

"I've got to go to work today. Stephanie called in sick last night, so they need me." he groaned, pressing his head to mine and moaning in disappointment. I giggled, pushing his back and taking his face in my hands. "You and Gwen could come in for an hour, right?"

"What time do you start?"

"Twelve." I told him, and he grinned, kissing me quickly.

"We'll be there. Gotta go, I've got some... errands to run." He winked, and I pouted at him. He chuckled, kissing me one last time before pulling his mask down his face. As sad as I was to have him leave so soon, I had a busy morning anyway, and I needed to get home before Martha woke up for work. So I watched him crawl up the wall and disappear over the top, hearing the swish of his web a moment later. With that, feeling light on my feet, I turned down the alley that ended up at the lobby of my building.

That was when I saw her. A little girl with terribly messy brown hair, sunken eyes and horribly pale skin. She was skinny, frighteningly skinny, looking weak on her legs. And her face, completely different to how I remembered it, was a face that was going to haunt me. I remembered her from when I went to the police station with Martha and Gwen, and she was sitting in the lobby with her mother, demanding where her father was. When I had last seen her, she had been sobbing, begging her mother to stop crying.

And now she was in the hands of social services, some woman carrying her into a building across the street. Since it was none of my business, I turned to go into the lobby, but not without the haunting gaze of the child, unnerved by how they widened at the sight of me.

I no longer felt light on my feet.

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**Review you lovely people!**


	3. New Faces

**Chapter 3 now up :) Thanks for those who are following and reviewing :D**

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The library was quiet today, and I was sitting at the desk with my feet up on the desk's surface, reading some sort of magazine but not really focussing on its content. This was only a small place, not a very popular place to rent books, but still usable nonetheless. It was okay to work there, but on days like this, I would have much rather practice my skills on Peter's skateboard. The bottom line was that I was bored stiff, and even a magazine couldn't occupy my mind. I was too busy thinking about the girl, who was haunting me now just as much as when I had first seen her. I hated how someone so young could look so empty, and it was really beginning to creep under my skin. No child that young should have to suffer.

I heard the bell ring above the door as it opened, and I expected to see Peter and Gwen making their way inside. I had gotten here earlier than needed, for Martha had left for work in a hurry and I had nothing better to do. But it wasn't them who walked in, just another customer. A man, seemingly in his mid twenties, walked in with his hands in his pockets, looking completely at ease. He had extremely dark hair, nearly black, that curled around his ears and occupying a conservable amount of hair gel to make it stylishly messy. And, dare I say it, he was incredibly handsome, his face strong with smooth looking skin. He looked at me, catching me in a smoky grey gaze.

"Can I help you?" I asked, pulling my legs off the desk and placing my feet firmly on the ground. The man smiled and I forced a polite smile back, knowing full well that my boss would be pissed if they knew I was being rude to customers.

"Claudia Thatcher, right?" he asked, his face smoothing with somewhat smugness. I frowned, instantly hating the idea of him knowing who I am.

"Who wants to know?" I asked, my smile vanishing. He chuckled, walking over and placing his palms on the desk.

"Martha said you'd be a little... touché." He said, smirking.

"Answer the question." I snapped, growing annoyed. I found myself not liking him: he was too cocky for my liking. For all I knew, he was probably a perfectly nice guy, but he was really beginning to push my patience. He knew it, too.

"Cole Davidson. I work with you sister, we're training together." I would have been more polite now that I knew who he was, but he'd annoyed me, just like many people normally annoyed me. So I kept my frown on, glaring fiercely at him. His eyes held nothing but innocence, and I thought I saw a slight flicker of fear in his orbs. I slouched in my chair, folding my arms and feeling rather smug. I was glad to know that I still that the effect of intimidation on people, even adults. Clearly I hadn't lost my touch.

"That's nice. So, is there anything in particular you're looking for?" I asked, lifting a brow. He stood straight again, taking the hint but smiling nonetheless.

"It was nice to finally meet you, Claudia." He said, walking off into one of the isles. _Feelings not mutual. _A few minutes later, the door opened again, and thankfully Peter and Gwen walked in. I beamed instantly, finally at ease.

"Hey you guys." I said, giggling as Gwen skipped behind the desk and catching me in a tight embrace. I hugged her back willingly, welcoming the sisterly love that radiated from her. When she pulled back, Peter stood beside her, using her shoulder as an arm rest.

"I see you're completely swamped." He said, smirking. I rolled my eyes, huffing out a sigh as I flopped back into my chair.

"I'm bored stiff." I told them.

"Sally around?" Gwen said, and when I shook my head, she grinned and hopped up onto the desk. Sally Bloom, my boss, was a real grouch. She was a plump little woman, only just taller than me, but she was a real bitch when she wanted to be. Even on quiet days like this, she hated it when my boyfriend and best friend came to see me, believing that they were 'distracting' me. From what was beyond me. The only reason I did what the silly woman told me to do was because I was getting good pay. All in all, I hated the woman.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Gwen asked, swinging her legs. Peter leaned on the desk beside her, his gaze devouring me and making me feel warm inside. I focussed all of my attention on Gwen.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I told her, offering a half smile.

"The change will be good for you." she told me, grinning.

"I hope so. How long you two sticking around for?"

"Just half an hour, Gwen has work and I need to help Aunt May with the shopping." Peter said, grinning. I was about to answer when Cole came back to the desk, an old looking book in his hand. I glared at him, especially when he made a sound in the back of his throat to basically tell them to shift. They did, but begrudgingly, standing and moving behind my chair.

"Renting or buying?" I asked flatly, and he told me he was only renting. Silently, I took the book from him, scanning it out and stamping in the day on the return on the inside of the cover.

"Thanks." He said, and I noted how his eyes never left mine.

"Anything else?" I said lowly, folding my arms. He shook his head, smiling before shuffling out of the library. After a moment, I turned, smiling sheepishly at the faces the two of them were pulling.

"What did he do? Insult you telepathically?" Gwen said, placing her hands on her hips in a 'what the hell?' look. I simply shrugged, biting my lip to bite back my grin.

"You know me, I still don't like people." I told her.

"You need to loosen up." She said, scoffing and taking my seat. I rolled my eyes, taking refuge under Peter's waiting arm and putting my arm around his waist. In the beginning of our relationship, I wouldn't have even thought about touching Peter this way. Gwen and Peter used to date, and I didn't want to push Gwen over the fact that he had moved on and she had not. However, she insisted that our relationship didn't bother her, and with content scolding, Peter and I eased up and actually acted like a couple in Gwen's presence. And, to be perfectly honest, I believed that she really wasn't bothered.

"He's called Cole Davidson, Martha's new fancy man. I've got no reason to trust him yet." I told her, and her face smoothed in understanding.

"So long as you don't attack him, I'll let you off."

The two of them stopped for indeed what was half an hour, and they left somewhat unwillingly. We arranged to meet at the skate park around five, and hour after a finished and the time Gwen got off work herself. After they left, I was left to drown in my boredom again, and somewhere between those hours, my mind drifted back to the girl with chocolate brown eyes.

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Alexandra stared at the children in the front room, sitting on the floor with a teddy held to her chest. The other children were watching her with deep curiosity, four girls and five boys between the ages of nine and fourteen. The fourteen year old, a boy with a hood shadowing his face, had no interest in the girl, his face fixed on the TV in the corner. But there was a little girl with bright red hair, her emerald eyes big with burning curiosity that left Alexandra feeling unnerved.

Alexandra was no longer hungry, but she had been given dinner in small doses. She begged for more, but the woman who seemed to own the place, Lizzie Bold, had told her that she needed to eat slowly so that she wasn't sick. Over the course of two hours, Alexandra was finally full, salad, breaded chicken and chips burning away in her stomach. But that didn't dull the pain of missing her mother, still not understanding what had happened. Nobody would tell her anything. So she had just been left in this room full of children, told to 'go and play'.

"Why are you so skinny?" the red head asked, her voice sweet. Alexandra simply stared at her in silence, making no effort to answer. "Did your mom starve you?"

"Lacey!" another girl snapped, a little older, perhaps ten. "Don't be rude." She had long dark hair, falling in straight waves to her waist, shiny and perfect. She was pretty too. Too pretty.

"But look at her, Molly! She's like a skeleton!" the red head, Lacey, objected, thrusting a finger at Alexandra.

"Shut up, Lace." The boy by the TV said, not looking in their direction. Alexandra stared at him, and a moment later she got to her feet, the teddy falling to the ground. I walked weakly over to the boy, perching on the floor beside him and watching the TV. The boy took no notice of her, but at least he didn't stare at her and throw odd questions at her. She wasn't sure what was on the TV, but she also didn't care.

"Where's my mommy?" she asked, her voice a little broken. The boy looked at her briefly, his face grim.

"In a mental hospital." Was all he said before he focussed back on the TV. The other children snickered, even Molly, at his words. Alexandra couldn't process as to why, and she couldn't make sense of what a mental hospital was. Was her mommy sick? Would she be able to visit her mommy? Where was this mental hospital?

"Your mommy's insane." A boy said behind her, looking to be about eleven. He had scruffy blonde hair, his grin somewhat odd and frightening. Alexandra cringed, moving to the other side of the boy beside her and trying to move out of sight. "She's crazy, wacko, nuts." He kept saying, as if trying to taunt her. The tears came back to the girl's eyes, and she buried her face in her toy that Lizzie had given her. What was wrong with these children? Why were they talking about her mother in such mean ways? Why were they being so cruel?

"Shut your face, Jake." The boy beside her snapped, finally looking away from the TV. Jake did, but he didn't stop smirking at Alexandra. The boy stood, stuffing his hands in his pockets and about to leave the room. "Her mom may be insane, but remember, yours left you in the gutter." He growled before stalking out of the room, turning towards a flight of stairs. His words seemed to have a horrid effect of Jake, for he instantly burst into tears. Wasting no time, Alexandra fled from the room, bumping headlong into Lizzie.

"I want to go home!" Alexandra shrieked over Jakes crying.

"You are home, sweetie. I'll speak to you in a minute, I need to talk to Jake." Alexandra didn't wait for a minute. She fled past her and up the stairs, spotting the boy sitting on the top step looking sorry for himself. She sat beside him, crying silently.

"This is home now." He croaked, staring ahead. Alexandra looked at him, sniffling at his words. "Home until some family comes to take you away."

"I want my mom." Alexandra whimpered, chewing on the sleeves of her cardigan. Before the boy could answer, he flinched when Lizzie's voice came rushing up the stairs.

"Chris! Get down here!" she bellowed, outraged. The boy, Chris, obliged, leaving Alexandra on the step by herself. This couldn't be home, just couldn't be. She wanted her mommy. She needed her. She wanted to get away from these strange, mean people. She didn't like this place. It was massive, full of children she had yet to meet, children she didn't want to meet.

Later that night, Lizzie showed her to her room. She was sharing with another girl, Lily Jackson, a quiet girl who seemed to be just as upset to be there. She was the same age as Alexandra, with light brown hair and olive coloured skin. She smiled shyly at Alexandra, pulling the covered of her bed up to her chin. There was another single bed on the other side of the room, and Alexandra wasted no time in fleeing toward it. Lizzie said good night to the girls, closing the door.

Ten minutes of silence passed.

"Sorry about your mom." Lily said quietly, looking at Alexandra with big eyes across the room.

"Why am I here?" she asked in a croak, swallowing loudly.

"This is the place where children with no parents come." Lily said softly. "I've been here for two years. It's called a foster home."

"I don't want to be here."

"It doesn't matter. You don't have a choice." Lily turned, sighing shakily into her pillow, and in just twenty minutes she was sound asleep. Alexandra wasn't. Instead, when she saw the light in the hallway beneath the door turn off, she climbed out of bed. There was an outfit at the bottom of her bed, ready for the next morning, and she stripped out of her pyjamas and into them. She couldn't stay here. No matter how young and confused she was, she knew that she couldn't stay here.

* * *

I was walking back from the skate park, feeling as fresh as a daisy after a couple of hours with Peter and Gwen. Life for me, routinely, couldn't get much better. Every day I felt lighter and lighter, my guard loosening every few weeks at a time. I knew I was selfish for it, but I couldn't have been happier, making me hate myself a little at the same time. Why? Because while I was happy, someone else was suffering, like the little girl I saw this morning.

Despite the great weather, winter was closing in, and by six darkness was beginning to set in. Along with rain. While walking home, insisting I needed to leave earlier to get ready for tomorrow, I got caught in a downpour of rain. I fled for the back lanes, desperately trying to escape the rain and take shelter between the buildings. To add to my trouble, it began to thunder, followed by lightning.

Fabulous.

In just two minutes I was drenched, shivering uncontrollably, my shoulder jerking as if I were having a fit. My knees were very close to buckling, the rain icy cold on my skin. Luckily, I was just a minute away from my apartment, an extra minute away from a warm cup of hot chocolate and a warm gas fire.

When I got to the steps of the building, I couldn't help but look across the street. It was then that I saw a small figure move into the gloom, fleeting across the road with what looked like the silhouette of a backpack. But I brushed it off, thinking nothing of it at the time, and I turned to go inside the building, deafened by the clattering of my teeth. Wrapping my arms around myself, I jogged towards the lift, hitting to button to my floor.

However, I couldn't shake the image of the figure in the gloom, the feeling nagging me that there was more to it than just someone caught up in the rain. It did my best to let it slide. Regrettably.

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	4. College

**Chapter 4, enjoy :D**

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I woke up to my alarm bleeping at seven the following morning, and I blindly searched for it on my bedside table to hit snooze. Once my ears stopped ringing with the noise, the first thing I thought was: _No bad dreams. _Thank God. Under the covers I stretched, letting out a moan of pleasure as I got my muscles working again, ready for another day. It took me only a moment to recall that today was the first day of college, and thankfully, I felt extremely refreshed.

Exiting the warmth of my bed, I walked barefoot to the window/wall, pulling the curtains apart and letting the light flood into my room. The rain had stopped, finally, for it had gone on throughout the night, loud and heavy right into the early hours of the morning. When I had got in, I had wasted no time in climbing into the shower, shivering in delight once the hot water caressed my freezing skin. When I had gotten out, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Martha had just got in and was setting her bag on the breakfast bar, scowling at the weather outside. When she saw me, refreshed and beaming, she instantly demanded if I had used up the hot water. Sisterly love for you.

This morning, I pulled on a pair of flared jeans and a black and white striped jumper. Strolling out of my room, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and tie up my hair, washing my face in the process.

"Claudia?" Martha called, her voice groggy from her bedroom.

"Bathroom." I answered, reappearing to go into the kitchen. She waved a flimsy hand in greeting, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You look rough, sis."

"Damn rain." She muttered, putting on the kettle and grabbing two cups. Settling on the black stool, swaying left and right, I drank her in with a heavy gaze. She had always been a frail girl, not much stronger than me. But she was very tall, like our father had been. I only just reached past her shoulders, for I was more like mom in both height and appearance. It pained me some times, knowing that mom and dad never really left us for they were literally a part of us. But that was something we lived with and, somehow, we got by. And looking at Martha, I saw a mixture of mom and dad in her, making my stomach coil slightly. I swallowed heavily.

"So, I met Cole Davidson yesterday." I said as casually as possible. She instantly reacted to the name, turning to me as if I had called a dog for its attention. I raised a brow at her reaction, but I didn't see the point in commenting.

"Where?" she asked, putting a heap of coffee grindings in each mug.

"Work." I said, and she easily caught the slight resentment in my voice. She turned to me, glaring slightly.

"I hope you were nice." She said and I bit my lip. "Claudia!"

"He has to earn my trust. Just because you're smitten." I told her, clasping my hands together and pretending to swoon. She merely rolled her eyes, pouring in the water to the mugs.

"Cole's a nice guy. He's not like Rick, I've learnt my lesson." She said, giving me a side glance.

"I just want you to be, you know, _less _naive." I said, gratefully taking the mug from her once she added the milk. I knew Martha could be strong. On the night that Rick got attacked, she had been kidnapped from our old apartment, but I knew for a fact that she had put up a fight. I had had my own one on one fight with Rick, almost getting myself killed in the process, and all the while Martha was battling it out back at our old home. I would forever be proud of her for that, knowing she stood up to someone she had no chance against. But, even so, she was still naive. She had been when she met Rick, was practically head over heels for him upon first glance. I was making it my personal mission that she didn't do that again. Ever. So that would mean that if she and Cole got involved, I would forever watch Cole like a hawk.

"You said so yourself, not all guys are Rick Hammond." She said, lifting her own brow.

"When you said he looked 'dark and handsome', I thought you were just overreacting. I say he looks dark and dangerous."

"Dangerous can be good. Who doesn't like someone dangerous?"

"You sound like a school girl going on about their first crush."

"Oh ha, ha." I giggled at her response, hopping off the stool and padding over to the breadbin, followed by stuffing two slices of bread into the toaster. "I think you'll like him if you got to know him."

"I'll keep you posted on that." I said, smiling at her generally. She smiled back, brushing her out of her eyes and taking a sip of her coffee.

"Right, I'm going for a quick shower. Have a good day today." She kissed my cheek, while I mentally noted that her definition of 'quick' was twenty minutes to half an hour.

"Will do." I said, the toast popping up at the same moment.

Twenty minutes later, I had my bag ready, sandwiches made and shoes on ready to go. Stuffing my lunch into my bag, I shouted, "See ya later, Martha!" before exiting the apartment. I was pretty sure she replied with "Stay out of trouble!", which I couldn't help but grin at. Three months ago, I was holding a gun to a grown man's head, and she still told me to 'stay out of trouble.'

College was only a ten minute walk away, barely that. I had walked in that direction many times, so I took my usual route which was in the back lanes. I liked to avoid crowds, for they had always bothered me, since the beginning of my depression. They still bugged me now, even in my recovery. To be perfectly honest, I hadn't really been fond of crowds as a child, either. When I was nine, I had gone shopping with mom and Martha, and I had been a very clingy child. I always held on to mom's hand, sickened at the thought of losing her. But on this particular did, that did indeed happen, and it was the scariest five minutes of my life. I had felt as if I was being swallowed up by the people around me, pushing and shoving me, not giving a damn. I had ended up in tears, yelling for my mom, who came rushing back for me and had taken me in her arms, soothing me with kind words and a rub of my back. There was no bigger fear than losing a parent in a busy place at that age.

I had arranged with Gwen to meet up in front of our old school, the place where I had somewhat bonded with her the most. She had, like Peter, forced her way into my life and took none of my crap, and I couldn't love her anymore for that. I admired people with a backbone, and though Gwen looked like your typical pretty face, she was so much more. She was a fighter, caring, loving, emotionally strong. She loved unconditionally, and even if that got her into trouble, she didn't let it throw her off course. Being friends with me nearly had her killed, and yet she still _chose _to be in my life, even when I had tried to push her out in an effort to protect her. I had come to love her like a sister, for she was the friend I thought I would never earn. I would easily give my life in return for hers, just as I would for both Martha and Peter.

Sure enough she was there, looking incredibly bubbling, like a child awaiting a promised surprise. Jumping up and down she grabbed me in a hug, chanting about how excited she was.

"It's only college. Like school, only for the big kids." I said sarcastically, both of us walking ahead and in sync.

"You should be more excited! New year, new environment, new everything! A fresh start for the new year coming up!"

"Why are you always so optimistic?" I asked, laughing at her. She simply shrugged, linking her arm in mine.

"That's what balances out our relationship. You're the grumpy chick, and to balance that out I'm the happy go Larry chick!" I laughed at her and shook my head, letting her lead the way and blabber on about nonsense. Peter was meeting us at the college, since he lived on the other side of town.

As I had anticipated, college was just like school, only with a little more freedom. No school bells, no teachers chasing after you on assignments, you didn't even have to address the lecturer by their surname. It was easy to assume that life here was going to be a lot easier for the next couple of years, and even it I wasn't a fan of change, so long as I had Gwen and Peter at my sides, I wasn't bothered.

The day consisted of getting to know the building, our fellow students and simply settling in. We wouldn't be starting any lectures until the following week, although we would get tasters of them in preparation for the topics we were studying. I was going to study things in the English section, such as media and literature, because I was aspiring to be a future journalist. According to Martha and my old teacher, I had talent in the arts of creativity, so I decided to use that to my full advantage in the future.

The three of us stuck together throughout the day, right up until the last hour when we got split off. We were doing some kind of quiz, and friendship groups got purposefully separated so that we could work in a team with students we didn't normally work with. I was stranded with a boy and girl. The boy was a brunette, the same shade as mine, with was fairly short and made into a spiky kind of style. The girl, who I instantly took a disliking to for the tonnes of makeup on her face, had dyed red hair (I mean like blood red), and she was too busy snickering at her friends across the room while chewing some gum.

"Name's Conner Carson." The boy said, saluting me with his hand. We sat at a square table, barely able to fit one of us, let alone three. I glanced at Peter who was two tables away, grinning when I saw his expression. He had his head in his hands, gawping at this girl with glasses and she babbled on about god knows what. He looked bored as hell.

"Claudia Thatcher." I said, smiling gently at the boy. He smiled back, but his eyes flicked to the girl before rolling his eyes. I was taken aback by how her eyes were on me, fixated as soon as I said my name.

"You're the girl from the newspaper three months ago. The one who had some guy at gunpoint!" she declared, her mouth falling open.

"Point being?" I asked flatly, watching her blankly.

"Are you like, I dunno, a young offender?" she asked, chewing noisily.

"Can't see as it's any of your business, but no, no I'm not." I answered, frowning deeply now. She rolled her eyes at my tone. "So, gummy, gonna tell us your name?" all the while, Connor Carson was coughing to smoulder his chuckles, his fist to his mouth. The girl stared at me, clearly annoyed now.

"If you must know, it's Paige Jenkins. Happy?" she said, her tone bitter now. I grinned.

"Very much, thanks for sharing." In that moment, the quiz begun, and naturally Connor and I did most of the work. It took about ten minutes to complete, the questions shown on the board at the front of the room. Turns out that in the end, we got the most answers correct, followed by Peter's group. Gwen's came fourth, and when I looked her way, she looked as if she had not the will to live. I caught her eyes, gently calling across to her, "Now who's grumpy?" she merely screwed up her face, running her hands down her face and making me laugh.

"Hey, Claudia, I don't know if you're interested, but fancy getting a coffee later?" Connor said, catching me off guard. He was smiling warmly, and I noted how his body was slightly leaning towards me. I grinned goofily, feeling quite sorry for him, actually.

"Can't, I'm going to my boyfriend's house after this." I told him, and I had to hold my laughter in check when his cheeks flushed. Poor guy. I admit, saying the word boyfriend felt odd falling from my lips, and I tried to avoid the word constantly. I mean, come on, Peter wasn't just any boy I was dating. He was Spiderman, the most wanted man in the city, but equally the most loved and admired. I don't think the word 'boyfriend' suit him very well.

"Thanks for the offer, though." I added, smiling at Connor. The lecturer announced the end of the day and we all stood, preparing ourselves to leave. I reunited with Peter, tangling my fingers between his and getting caught up in Gwen's complaining of the last hour.

Gwen had to shoot off home, claiming she had some work to do with her mom. We decided to walk her home, idling walking and talking about the day's events. I must admit, it had been an alright day. Gwen was right, maybe change _was _good for me. but then again, it was early days.

Just five minutes from Gwen's apartment building, Peter and Gwen walking ahead, something caught my eye. Down a dark alley was a small form slumped against the wall, shivering uncontrollably, wrapped up tight in a ball. A backpack lay abandoned a few meters away from whoever was on the ground. And I heard sobbing. Heartbroken sobs, belonging to what sounded like a very young child. I glanced at the other two, who had stopped and were looking over their shoulders at me in confusion. Slowly, I turned into the alley and towards the person on the ground. Upon hearing me approach, their head lifted.

My breath caught. It was the girl with the chocolate brown eyes, and if I didn't know any better, she was very close to catching a deadly fever. I knelt in front of her, my mouth agape as I stared at what I was seeing. She stared back with blood shot eyes, soaked hair and clutching her knees to her chest. Despite her situation, she stared at me in wonder, and the following words left my heart somewhat hammering.

"Why are you always in my dreams?"

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	5. Change

**Chapter 5 :D Enjoy!** **And thank you guys for following/reviewing!**

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"Oh my God." Gwen breathed behind me, latching onto Peter's arm. I simply stared at the child before me, frowning slightly at her statement. The look in her eyes sent chills down my spine, their depth of emptiness unnerving me. I easily saw myself, the girl I was over four months ago, in the early stages of my own depression. And that thought terrified me. She was just a child!

"Why?" she croaked, pressing me to answer her question. I swallowed heavily, blinking. My lips parted to answer, and it took me an answer to stutter out my words.

"I don't know." I told her quietly, and her eyes bore into mine as if trying to search for something. Taking a deep breath, trying to control the emotion of what I was seeing before me, I said, "Why are you out here?"

"Because the other children are mean." She answered softly, her teeth beginning to clatter together. I turned to the other too, seeing the horrified looks on their faces and reflecting how I felt. "I want my mommy."

"We have to take her back." Peter said, biting his lip. I nodded.

"She arrived at the foster home down the road the other day." I explained, and all of a sudden the child started sobbing, latching onto my arm. I jerked, taken aback by her touch, gawping down at her when she buried her face in my arm. Even through the jumper I was wearing, I could feel how cold she really was, frighteningly so.

"Don't take me back! Please!" I begged. Softly, I asked for her name, but she refused to reply, her sobs becoming louder. I looked at the others for help, completely at a loss. What did she want me to do? I was slightly stunned at the fact she could remember me: why else would she be dreaming about me? They say that you cannot dream about someone you have never seen. And judging by the way she was clinging to me, she somehow had whatever faith she had left focussed on me.

The only painful part about it was that there was nothing I could do for her.

Standing, I awkwardly shrugged the girl off me, but not without grabbing her hand reassuringly. However, she simply clung to my leg instead, her tears soaking through my jeans.

"I have their number." Gwen said, showing me the website she had gotten up on her phone. I nodded, pushing down the guilt of what we were about to do to this poor child. But I wasn't exactly going to _leave _her out here in the street! Gwen jogged away while she held the phone to her ear, Peter coming over and taking my hand in his. Bending down, he levelled his gaze with the girl's, smiling warmly.

"Everything will be okay." He told her softly. The child shook her head vigorously.

"Don't take me back. Please. I want mommy." Her voice was tiny and weak, making me shudder in disgust. She looked starved to death, her cheek bones far too prominent when they should be chubby and flushed. The bottom line was that she had gone through hell.

When I had been that age, I had had the perfect life. A loving family, a perfect home, many friends at school and I had everything that my heart desired. I had had that for sixteen years. But what did this girl have? As far as I was aware, her dad was dead. Her mother, however, I was yet to find out the fate of. It I ever would. By the way the girl claimed she wanted her mother told me that she was still alive, somewhere, and an image of the woman's heart breaking in the police station crossed my mind. Heartache destroyed people, effectively destroying those around them, and I instantly got the theory that she had been unable to take anymore.

"Where is your mommy?" I asked quietly.

"Men... took her away." She sniffed, brushing the back of her hand below her nostrils. I had nothing to say to that. What could you say to that? My heart went out to her, to her confusion and fear. But, like I had already said, there was nothing I could do for her. I wanted to, very much, for I found myself not wanting to let her down. For reasons beyond my knowledge, she seemed to somewhat believe in me, making it all that much harder for having to do the right thing.

So when the woman who owned the foster home came around the corner with another man and woman, I clenched my eyes shut and tried to blank out the screams of protest coming from the girl's mouth. They had to practically yank her from my leg, avoiding her thrashes of resistance. I felt my heart break a little for her, understanding how difficult the real world must have been for her. Peter hugged me from behind, looking sombre. I looked at Gwen, who looked to be on the verge of tears as the woman carried the screaming girl away and out of sight. Taking her hand, I smiled sadly.

"Come on, you need to get home." I said gently, and she numbly nodded.

The walk to Gwen's was slow and silent, our day effectively dulled just by that little girl alone. We left her by the lobby of her apartment building, watching as she jogged inside rather hastily. Peter and I left hand in hand, the two of us ambling towards the neighbourhood where he lived.

"Do you feel guilty?" I asked quietly, looking ahead.

"A little. It was the best thing for her, though." He said, giving my hand a squeeze.

"I guess. But she really didn't want to go back there."

"Don't over think it. There's nothing we could have done for her, anyway. And I know what you're thinking," he caught my gaze, pausing. "but even _you_, Claudia Thatcher, can't help her."

"I just think that maybe, somehow, we could, I don't know, help her to not give up hope. No one that young should have to suffer." I said sadly, dipping my head.

"What makes you think that that's possible?"

"Because you did exactly that for me." I answered, not missing a beat. He stopped, placing his fingers under my chin and lifting my face toward his. His lips gently brushed mine, the lightest touch still setting my skin on fire. He pulled back too soon, cupping my cheek in his hand. He never responded verbally to my comment, for he knew it was true, but I also knew that at the end of the day, that girl was in somewhat good hands. Whether she knew it or not. I had no right to intervene in what was practically none of my business.

I stayed at Peter's until about seven that evening, enjoying dinner with him and his aunt May, a lovely woman who wore her heart on her sleeve. I had always liked May Parker, right from when Peter first spoke of her. To this day I'm not really sure why, but they way he spoke of her had me respect her before we had even met. The fact that she was still holding herself together with the loss of her husband, that she was still able to look after her nephew without ever breaking down, was enough to earn my respect and admiration for her. She was also part of the reason why Peter and I were together. She had come to me saying that I didn't deserve to be unhappy, and neither did Peter. In an attempt to protect him and Gwen, I had told them that they were better off out of my life, only with crueller words. May Parker had had a big part in changing that.

"So, how was college?" she asked me when she was cleaning up the dishes, Peter and I drying them.

"Pretty good, actually." Peter said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, it was okay." I agreed.

"It's healthy for you teenagers to have a big change, really it is. It's a brilliant process in life, you know?" she said, beaming and handing me one of the dishes to dry. I offered a tiny smile, taking it from her and running the dish cloth over the plate. I liked to believe that she was partly right. Change was good for many of us who got the chance to experience it, but not all of us were so lucky. Change wasn't always good. I had witnessed both sides of change, good and bad, and trust me, the bad side was always enough to tear you apart.

Peter took me home after that, but not in the old fashioned walking way. He always wore his web shooters, little devices he had designed himself to enhance his abilities as Spiderman. Naturally, I was very impressed by them and the fact that he himself had designed and created them. So, with that, he liked to keep them on his wrists in case of emergences... or if he just wanted to show off.

Swiftly, without my consent, he pulled me against his body, now tense and ready. Without a word, we left the ground, something that used to take my breath away. But now, three months on, it just made me smile. I was a sucker for have the wind in my hair, relishing those minutes of flying through the city and feeling abnormally free. Peter was the only one who could offer me that kind of thrill. He was a rollercoaster in himself when he swung, both of us plunging to the ground and rising at the last minute. There was no way t describe the intensity of that way of travelling.

All I knew was that I wouldn't trade that feeling for the world.

We arrived at my apartment in no time, Peter walking me to my door like the gentleman that he was. He could have just left me in the lobby, but he and Martha had gotten pretty smug with one another lately, and he liked to say hello at least once in the week. Opening the door, I found Martha at the breakfast bar, munching on a slice of pizza while reading a document for her course. I cleared my throat.

"Oh, hey! Hi, Peter, you alright sweetie?" she asked, dropping whatever she was doing and walking over to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Peter grinned.

"Just dandy, Martha." He said. "You?"

"Fantastic, thank you. You kids behave?" she looked between the two of us, and I jabbed her ribs with my elbow. Peter merely laughed. "Fancy coming in for a coffee?"

"Oh, I can't, I need to get home." He told her, sounding as disappointed as I felt. He stepped forward, pecking me on the lips. "See you soon." He said, his tone now mischievous. Oh, I would see him very soon. Every other night, while 'patrolling' the city, he liked to drop by my window at around four in the morning, something he had done ever since our relationship began. And I wasn't one to complain.

"Bye, Peter." I said, biting back my grin. He winked, walking off down the hall as I closed the door. When I saw Martha looking at me sceptically, I turned defensive.

"What?" I demanded, posing a 'what did I do?' look. She just grinned and shook her head, returning to her seat.

"I'll never get over seeing you so _smitten_." She smirked, and I knew she was mentally ducking the daggers I shot at her with my gaze.

I loved Martha. It was hard to believe that I had brought myself to hate her when I was depressed, blaming everything on her, accusing her of things that she wasn't guilty of. I hated myself for doing that to her, but in my mind I had paid my debt. I would just never escape the gratitude I felt towards her for accepting me back with open arms, but then again, she was my sister, and sisters stood by one another until the very end. And I believed that after what we had been through, we could get through anything as long as we were together. She was my everything, which was something that others weren't as lucky to have.

* * *

Alexandra sat outside of Chris's room, banging the back of her head into the wood gently. Everyone was in bed, having fallen asleep once her screaming had stopped. Why had the girl with blue eyes sent her back? Why did that boy say everything would be okay? As long as she was separated from her mother, nothing would ever be okay. She needed her. She needed her mother for the love and protection she would forever need. Mommy would get better, and when she did, she would come and find Alexandra and take her home. Her real home. But deep down, she knew her mommy wasn't coming back, either, just like her daddy didn't.

Chris finally opened the door, his hair messy and his face not at all happy. He glared down at the girl on the floor, who was now regretting coming to him.

"What the hell do you want, kid?" he demanded in a hushed growl. What did she want? She didn't know. "Want me to get you out of here through the window? Want to run out on the streets again and get yourself killed? Face it, you're stuck here." And with that, he slammed the door shut into her back, a slight pain jolting down her back.

Alexandra didn't want to go back to her room, where Lily was slumbering soundlessly. Instead, she curled into a ball at Chris's door, using her arms as a pillow and closing her eyes. Chris had been the closest thing to nice towards her, and all she really wanted right now was someone to lean on. Confused, frightened, lonely. Seven years old, her whole life ahead of her, and she was lonely. On the floor she shivered, coiling into a tighter ball.

The door opened again, less forcefully this time. She didn't respond, cringing at the thought of him telling her to move. He didn't. With a heavy sigh, he bent down and took the child in his arms, taking her inside his dark room and closing the door.

"Sorry." He whispered. Silently, he placed her on his bed, which was neat and tidy, indicating that Chris hadn't been sleeping. "You can sleep in here, but just for tonight, okay?" he told her sternly. The child nodded, snuggling under the covers. She somehow felt safe with the boy, but that didn't kill the undying need to be with her mother. Only dulled it, just a fraction. Chris sat at his computer, placed in the corner and the light low in the room. Listening to the typing of the keyboard and the clicking of the mouse, Alexandra drifted into a light sleep.

She would get out of here. She just needed someone to keep her sane for the moment, just until she got out again. Got out to find the girl with blue eyes again, who was yet again invading her dreams.

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	6. Photography

**Chapter 6 :D Thank you for reviewing and following, as I keep saying! :D The support is appreciated!**

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Someone was knocking on the door at half seven in the morning, two weeks into my new life at college. Martha was in the shower, and I hadn't arranged for anyone to come by in the morning. Frowning, I strolled over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Upon seeing who it was, I let out a puff of air, rolling my eyes and pulling open the door. Cole Davidson stood on the other side, dressed in a basic suit with a briefcase at his side. He smiled at me.

"Good morning, Claudia." He said. I merely glowered, stepping aside and letting him in. Every Monday and Thursday, Martha's training days, he insisted on coming by to pick her up and take her for a coffee before going to work. He called it 'business', I called it 'dating'. They way he looked at her, devouring her in a got gaze much like Peter looked at me, told me he wanted to be more than business partners (or even friends) with her. That made me all the more wary of him, much to Martha's annoyance. She kept telling me that 'she was a big girl' and that 'she could take care of herself'. I was one who begged to differ due to past events.

"Martha, hurry up!" I shouted. I watched as Cole took a seat, my seat, at the breakfast bar, idly looking at his watch. We heard the muffled reply of Martha, and a moment later the bathroom door opened around the corner. I took a sip from my cup of coffee, watching as she dashed across the room in nothing but a towel, shouting "Don't look!" in her wake. I couldn't help but snort, hiding a laugh my pretending to choke.

I glanced at Cole, who was watching me with curiosity. I raised my brows, looking at him over the brim of my mug.

"Yes?" I asked sweetly with a hint of bitterness. He rolled his shoulders, grinning.

"Is there any particular reason why you don't like me, Miss Thatcher?" he asked, sounding very professional. I simply smirked at him, begrudgingly impressed by his boldness.

"You've not given me any reason to trust you." I answered.

"Martha trusts me."

"That's the problem." Before he could answer, Martha reappeared, stuffing her wet hair into a ponytail and wearing a smart/casual outfit. She beamed at Cole, who grinned back at her while his eyes raked her up and down. I glared at him.

"Ready?" he asked, standing.

"Yeah. See you later, Claudia." She kissed my cheek, leading the way out of the apartment with Cole at her heel. He looked back at me, catching me straight in the eyes, and I swallowed at the seriousness that lingered there.

"See you tomorrow, Claudia." He said, and I caught the hidden comment. _We'll talk tomorrow. _

"Chow." I muttered, following them and closing the door. Beneath the whole bitter act I threw at him, it was only because I was worried about Martha and her welfare. I wasn't convinced that she was ready to date yet. And if I showed my worry towards her, my only weakness, I felt that I would fail her once again as the protective sister. I had failed her once, I wouldn't do it again. The only way to make it clear that I wasn't weak was to pretend I had no heart to care. Cole Davidson would have to put up with my wrath until I decided otherwise.

I hadn't seen anything of that little girl since we found her in the alley. In a way, I supposed that it was good, for she was somewhere safe. Hopefully. There had been no reports on her missing, no pledges for finding a girl with brown hair and brown eyes, between the ages of six to eight. Absolutely nothing, so therefore, I was able to get on with my life without worrying. I wasn't sure what it was about her. It was the way she desperately clung to me, like I was her last hope in life. But I didn't see the point in dwelling on it. She wasn't my problem.

I had settled into college nicely, keeping on top of my assignments and staying focussed. That was more than I could say about my attitude's improvement. Back in high school, I had barely done any work at all for the last six months, and it was a wonder how I had passed _any _of my exams. But I had, and I was grateful. I was hopeful for my future, and if I was going to be a journalist, I needed to focus on the here and now to get there. I had dreams of travelling the world, give my life a meaning. Peter had taken a strong interest in photography, a hobby he had taken up for years, and he was focussing all his energy into that topic. Gwen was focussed on her science, the scientist that she was, focussing on her work in that area. So we all had our hopes and dreams, but where that would take us as a trio was yet to be discovered.

By half eight, I was at Gwen's side, arms linked. But getting there hadn't been smooth sailing. On my way to her, Connor Carson had spotted me, much to my dismay. Since our exercise on the first day, he had taken an odd liking to me, and he was beginning to annoy me. He made it his mission to be friends with me, but I saw through the lines and knew that he had taken an unnerving liking to me. He kept pulling me into small talk, asking for my number, and repeatedly wanting to meet up outside of college, but I would have none of it. It worried me. I wasn't worried about _my_ welfare, for I could easily take care of myself, but I was worried about Peter finding out, and what he would do if he did. As sweet and caring as he was, he also had a darker streak, a streak that scared even me. I avoided that part of him at all costs.

This morning, he had spotted me crossing the road, jogging up beside me. Mentally, I knocked myself out my smacking my head against a wall.

"Hey Claudia, you okay?" he asked politely, purposely brushing his arm against mine. Instinctively, I jerked away from the touch.

"Just peachy, Connor, thanks." I said stiffly. My eyes raked for Gwen.

"Fancy going for a coffee at lunch?" he asked.

"Can't, I need to study."

"We could study together in the library if you want."

"I'll rephrase. I'm studying _alone."_ _Take the hint. _

"Come on, just one coffee." He begged, nudging me again. He was beginning to bend a nerve, something that wasn't hard to do. Everyone knew I had a short temper, and Connor was about to suffer that hot wrath of it if he carried on.

"Seriously, Connor, I'm good." I said through clenched teeth. He was about to argue, when thank God I found Gwen. "Adios, Connor!" I said, running off to join her. She gave me an odd look, raising a brow, and I merely laughed.

"You just saved me." I told her. She didn't ask, just rolled her eyes and led me to our destination. I could still feel Connor's eyes burning into my back. God help me.

The morning went by in a blur, and after lunch, Peter took advantage of my free period. Gwen had a biology class, and Peter told me he needed a model to work on for his photography class. So we ended up in the far end of the building on the top floor, the photography room empty and cluttered. In the door way, I looked at Peter and arched my brow.

"Thought you said you needed a model for photography." I stated. He gave me a goofy grin, grabbing my waist and pulling me against him.

"I do. But we also might as well make use of this empty class room." He said, his voice turning seductive. He bent his head to kiss me, but I stopped him with my hands on his chest.

"Work first." I told him sternly, poking a finger into his chest. He pouted, pulling my body flush against his so that we were touching at several sensitive bases. I didn't show it, but my mind began to whirl, my heart doing somersaults and my stomach knotting pleasantly.

"Just one kiss?" he asked lowly, and I couldn't help but gaze at his lips for a moment. But I quickly shook my head, mustering all the control I had and gently pushed him away. If only he knew what kind of lust he made me crave. He made me hungry for him, almost to the point of starvation, and every day I was finding it harder and harder to control myself in his presence.

"Camera." I said, sounding like the decision was final. He let out a puff of air, searching for his photography camera that was on one of the many cluttered tables. Peter used me and Gwen as models constantly, along with a few other students and people he knew in his personal life. His project was to show the things he cared about, the things that made his life how it was. But he couldn't just take simple pictures. He had to catch us in a certain light and angle, not necessarily of our faces. He took photos of eyes, hands, lips. He had us in somewhat poses with certain expressions, much like a real photographer. And the results were always amazing once he edited them and put them into a collage, and he had made three already for practice.

Coming over to me, he lifted my head by my chin, telling me to look slightly up with my eyes. I couldn't help but laugh when I accidently shifted my gaze back to his, for he kept on scolding me playfully and scoffing in fake annoyance. But I soon behaved and did as I was told, letting him snap close ups of my eyes.

"I never have to do editing with your eyes." he told me absently. "Makes the work a lot easier."

"No? Why not?" I asked, looking down with my eyes now.

"You have amazing eyes." he told her earnestly. Apparently, my eyes were my best feature. They had always been big, the deepest of blues. Mom's eyes. Dad used to tell me that when he looked into them, he thought he was looking into the ocean. He told me that that was why he fell in love with my mom, because he fell into the depths of her eyes. Mom always told him he was being a hopeless romantic with his cheesy lines, but she really did have the most beautiful eyes. _She _was beautiful.

"Thank you." I murmured, lifting my gaze after he took the photo. He simply gazed back, staring into my very soul and making my breath hitch with the intensity. But then he smiled, lifting his hand to my face and grazing the tips of his fingers across my cheekbone. He was tracing a slight scar that lingered then, barely visible but there all the same. A reminder of the harsher months, on a particular night when I had suffered a beating. As soon as a saw that flicker of despair in his eyes, I took his hand away and twined our fingers together, reminding him that I was still here, that we were still together. Looking at our hands, he lifted his camera and took a photo.

Once he was finished, he pulled me against him again and pressed his forehead to mine, his warm, minty breath tinkling my lips.

"I love you." he murmured. Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the corner of his mouth, lingering there in a teasing gesture.

"I guess I love you, too." I said, and he groaned, forcing his mouth onto mine and pulling me into his world of ecstasy between our locked lips. Lips moulding together, tasting one another in a graceful dance, I let my heart hammer with the thrill. And when we pulled apart, we grinned, agreeing that perhaps we needed a distraction by getting back to work.

An hour later, we were walking down the hall hand in hand, Peter showing me the photos he had just taken. We went through the ones of my eyes, lips and hands, picking out the best ones to use for the project. And, looking at the closeness of my eyes, I saw nothing but mom. Normally, that would have made me feel despair, but in actuality, I was just glad that she was still alive in me. The last photo was of the two of us, a silly one that we decided to take for the hell of it. A photo of me kissing his cheek, a goofy grin on his face in response. It reflected our happiness, making me feel warm.

"Wanna hang out at mine tonight?" he asked me, stuffing the camera in his bag. I smiled but shook my head.

"Martha and I are going out for dinner." I told him, not missing his disappointment. "Lighten up, you get more of me than you can handle."

"Not enough." He said lowly, pressing his lips to my temple. It was amazing that just two words could make my thoughts go hazy.

At the end of the day, I said my farewells to Peter and Gwen, hurrying home so that Martha and I could go out. She had been busy with work lately, having little time for just the two of us. So when she suggested the previous night that we going out for dinner, I had been more than excited to agree.

When I got home, she was ready and waiting, but I was instantly suspicious. She wore a very snug dress, one of her best, and it clung to every curve, showing off her perfect frame. The light blue complemented her eyes and blonde hair, with were not exactly natural for the moment. She wore makeup around her eyes and her hair was artificially curled.

"You look... nice." I said. She bit her glossy lip. "What?"

"When I said we were going out..."

"You didn't."

"Cole's coming." She said quickly, lifting a hand to halt the rant I was about to give. "Listen to me. I want you to like him. I _need_ you to like him. Please, just one night, that's all I ask."

"But-"

"Please, Claudia." She truly was begging, which meant I had the option to refuse. I _wanted _to refuse, and yet I knew how much this meant to her. "If he tries anything, I'll let you tear his throat out." She said jokingly. I watched her, sighing. Whether I liked it or not, she liked this man, and up to press I hadn't been able to find anything wrong with him. He was (dare I say it) perfect for her, in a way. He was polite, professional, caring, well groomed, and clearly head over heels for my sister. So I might as well get to know the guy.

"Fine. But you owe me." I snapped. She clapped her hands gleefully.

"Thank you! Now, get changed. He'll be here in about ten minutes." I stalked off to my room, pulling out a plain but effective white dress with a flared skirt. It was strapless and snug at the waist, but it could have easily been worn in the day. I did little with my hair, and I certainly refused to put on makeup. It wasn't _my _date with the guy!

Slipping my feet into some white flats, I came out into the main room and let Martha assess me. She approved, running off to make sure she looked okay despite my assurances. I rolled my eyes as she dashed to her room. And that was when I heard it.

"_Seven year old Alexandra Ray has been announced missing from a foster home upstate. She has been missing for the last two days." _I turned to the TV that was on, my gut telling me to. And, sure enough, a picture of the girl without a name was on the screen, not a recent one. She was beaming, sitting on a woman's lap who I recognised as her mother. But I knew full well that the child no longer looked the way she did in the photo. Cole was at the door and Martha flicked off the TV, ushering me towards the door. I let her, too numbed by the knowledge of what I had just learnt.

I knew that the girl, Alexandra, was none of my business. But I knew I was going to make her my business.

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**Just so you know, Connor won't be a future villain. But he will be a slight test for Peter and Claudia's relationship... ;) **

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	7. Date

**Sorry I didn't update yesterday! I was so busy I never had time! I would upload two chapters but I have a party tonight so I can't :( Anyway, enjoy!**

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Cole Davidson had Martha on his arm, the two linked together ahead of me while I glowered at their backs. I resented this idea even more now, what with knowing that a child was out there, somewhere. To add to my uneasiness, thunder rippled in the distance. I shivered. Cole had us booked into one of the finest restaurants in the city, far out of our league. How could he afford it? It was that posh that there were waiters outside the doors wearing tuxes, greeting all the couples that filed in. I felt like an intruder: this was no place for a three-way outing. This was strictly for dates, rich dates at that. Cole looked back at me, looking slightly guilty.

"I wanted to make an impression." He told me sheepishly. I clapped my hands sarcastically.

"Well done, mission accomplished." I snapped. Martha turned and gave me a look of warning, snagging my arm and pulling me to her other side. Entering the building, I glared at my surroundings. It was all so... flawless. Everywhere was white, open, soft music filling the atmosphere. Everyone spoke quietly, chattering at their tables with one another. There were tables for a party, families and couples, and the couple tables were occupied the most. Kill me now. Admittedly, we could afford this place, but this was no place for _me. _Hot tempered, sarcastic, un-lady-like Claudia Thatcher. Martha maybe, what with her elegance and beauty, but me? Hell no.

"Mr Davidson, good evening. Table for the two of you?" a waiter just inside the door said. I cleared my throat, glowering at the man. He was greying, his face aging considerably, but it was easy to tell that he would have been attractive in his youth. His cool grey eyes met mine. "Forgive me, miss, I didn't see you there."

"Thank you, John." Cole said, smiling. Martha was looking at her feet, and maybe to didn't feel as at home as I had anticipated. "Is it possible to have a table at the back? Somewhere quiet?"

"Certainly. If you would like to follow me." he led us through the room, and I imagined that without the tables it would look like a ball room. Despite my spite towards the place and the people inside, the rich and selfish, I couldn't escape the breathtaking paintings that covered the walls. Mirrors, too. So many mirrors, making the place look bigger than what it actually was. It was just so... perfect.

Why the hell was I here again?

We reach a table for three at the back of the room, away from the main tables that settled in the centre of the room. The waiter handed us our menus, telling us that someone will be here to serve is shortly. I sat opposite Martha, silently glowering at her and mentally screaming, _I hate you for this! _She owed me. Big time. For God's sake, I didn't belong there!

"I hope you don't mind me asking you to join us, Claudia." Cole said. I gawped at him.

"_You _asked me to come along?" I said rather rudely. Martha kicked my foot, but Cole merely chuckled.

"I want to earn your trust, something I apparently haven't done yet. You intimidate me, Claudia." He explained. I raised a brow. I intimidated him? I certainly wasn't losing my touch. That last thing I ever wanted was to go soft. There were only three people who I had a soft spot for, and that wasn't about to change unless _I _decided otherwise. Cole was right to be intimidated. He had no idea what I was capable of. And then a thought occurred to me: how much _did _he know about the Thatcher sisters? A very good question indeed. Perhaps he didn't know what world he was getting himself wrapped up in.

"Claudia is very headstrong and protective, but she had her reasons." Martha said apologetically, smiling shyly at him.

"How much do you know about us?" I asked, earning another kick from Martha. I bit back my smirk. She obviously didn't want him to know about the reality of our lives. Yet. Well, he was growing more and more fond of her, so time was running out. But then again, if she told him, and he ran away, that would prove he wasn't a good man for her. She needed someone strong, caring, protective. A man who loves her.

"I know about the unfortunate loss of your parents." He said boldly, and there truly was sympathy in his smouldering grey eyes. My breath hitched slightly, for the topic of mom and dad was always a touchy subject. However, he looked sincere enough...

A new waiter, a young woman with light brown hair tied in a bun, came to take our drink orders and meal orders. I absently scanned the menu. I asked for a diet coke and for the roast chicken meal. I hated to imagine how posh that would look on the plate. She took the other two's orders before flashing a smile and hastily leaving.

"How can you afford this place?" Martha asked, taking in our environment.

"I have inherited money from my parents." He told us.

"Inherited?" I asked, frowning.

"They died shortly after I was born." Ouch. But, the selfish, dark side of me, envied that escape. They had died when he was a baby, so he hadn't had to endure the agonizing pain of that loss. But what was worse? Living life without the love of your parents, or living with the love and have it ripped away? They were both equally painful, and it was something I didn't want to ponder on.

"I'm sorry." Martha said, touching his hand. He smiled sadly at her, and I said nothing.

"So, Claudia, I've heard that you've taken an interest in journalism." He said to me, lightening the mood. I looked at him.

"It's a plan for the future, yes." I said quietly.

"Martha showed me some of your writing assignments, they're brilliant, I must say."

"Oh, did she now?" I said, raising a brow at my now flushed sister. "She speaks about me a lot, I take it?" he chuckled, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Have you spoken about yourself at all, sis?"

"Of course!" she snapped, flustered. _But not everything. _And then I knew. She hadn't told him about Rick at all, not an inkling. I knew that every time they were edging near that topic, she used me as a distraction. So, evidently, she didn't trust him completely yet. Staring at her with a harsh gaze I stood, excusing myself to the bathroom.

Once away and in the safety of the restroom, I pulled my cell from my handbag. Furiously, annoyed, I punched in a text to Martha.

_Stop using me as a distraction. Tell him about Rick! He has a right to know what kind of crowd he's mixing with!_

I waited a few more minutes, taking up the time that it would need to go the bathroom. And then I returned to our table, settling down in my seat. Martha met my gaze, and she looked defeated. Good. She had to tell him, with or without me.

We engaged in small chatter, just until our meals arrived with our drinks. Silently, while those two chattered about whatever, I put a chunk of chicken in my mouth. Oh my God. It was divine! The juices swam into my mouth, hot on my tongue with the delicious taste of the well cooked chicken. I could taste something beyond that, something slightly spicy. I didn't care. I ate the whole lot within ten minutes.

Finished off my added salad and arranged vegetables, the plates were taken away from us and we were asked if we would like desert. When Cole and Martha agreed, I took the opportunity to treat myself to a melt in the middle chocolate sponge. The name of it made my mouth water, and I didn't care that I was already full from my main.

"So have you lived in New York all your life?" Cole asked Martha.

"No, up until Claudia was born, I lived in Chicago with mom and dad." She explained. "We lived on the outskirts until she turned seven, and we moved into this area."

"Do you both like it here?"

"To an extent." I answered before she could. "There are times here I'd rather forget." _Such as lying in a gutter, dying in the rain. _

"I understand." Cole murmured. _No you don't, not yet. _

"It's been a tough year for us." Martha said quietly, purposely adding more meaning to her words. Cole caught up on that, too, looking at her with guilty curiosity. I watched them stare each other down, and the heat between them was unmistakable. I had felt it all night. The hot draw between the two, burning the atmosphere when they locked eyes. Passion. Strong passion that the two were not aware of yet. But I could feel it as if I had been slapped ten times. It was there, waiting to be acted upon, and it made me wonder if that was what it was like with me and Peter.

"You say that as if there's more to it." he said lowly. Martha glanced at me. _Good luck. _

"You could say that." she said softly, twiddling her fingers nervously. And suddenly, I wasn't anxious for my pudding. I lost my appetite. The atmosphere had grown uncomfortable, and in that moment, I knew it was my cue to leave. Martha had to do this on her own.

"Where are you going?" Martha demanded hotly as I stood. Anger blazed across her eyes, and Cole watched me with uncertainty and confusion.

"Just tell him, for God's sake, Martha." I snapped, and then I marched out of the restaurant, not looking back. I knew that she would rip my throat out later tonight, but I couldn't handle the tension. Besides, she needed to do this alone. _I _wasn't the one falling in love with my sister! I could see it in his eyes. Whether he knew it or not, he was falling for her, and it wasn't whether _I _trusted him that mattered anymore. It was whether Martha did, and if she was making a right choice. He could stay or go, but what he chose would determine how much he was willing to dedicate himself to her. If he ran, I wouldn't care.

But if he ran but hurt her in the process, he'd have me to answer to.

It was raining heavily outside. The air was icy cold, raising the hairs on my body with the chill. I let the rain soak me and wash away all the tension of the last five minutes, making me feel at ease. For a moment, I was content, just standing there in the street. But then something came back to me, something I had momentarily forgotten.

Alexandra Ray.

She was out here, in the rain, shivering and probably catching her death. Immediately I shivered with the thought. I headed home, but all the while I was keeping my eyes peeled, looking down every street, seeking a small figure in the gloom. The streets were bare, everyone having fled from the rain and taking shelter in their homes and work. the place around me was like a ghost town, right up until I got to the steps of my apartment building. I didn't find Alexandra, but I found Gwen waiting in the archway of the main entrance.

"Claudia!" she yelped. She ran out to me in the rain, pulling me into a hug and wetting her clothes without a care. For a moment I was worried. Had something happened? She was trembling, and I wasn't sure if it was with the cold or something else. "There's something you need to look at." She said in my ear. Instinctively, I chilled to the bone. What was going on? Beyond the cry of the rain, as I stepped closer to the building, I head teeth clattering. I climbed the steps and stepped into the archway, sheltered from the rain with Gwen at my heel. And then I gasped, horrified.

In a ball to my right, shivering uncontrollably under Gwen's coat, was a little girl lying in a puddle from the rain. She peeked up at me from beneath the coat, smouldering brown eyes meeting my watery blue ones.

"C... C... C... Clau... dia." She stuttered, and I swore my heart broke like the many times it had in the past. However, the pain always punched me harder than the last.

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	8. Well Played

**Chapter 8 :) Enjoy! And thank you to those who are reviewing :D**

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Alexandra wouldn't move. Gwen and I had tried to get her to her feet and take her inside, but she had only screamed her little lungs off, but the scream itself was nothing but a little croak. She was lighter than a feather, and it took little effort to lift her from the ground. But, once she was on her feet, she merely punched us away and went straight back to the floor. After what must have been five attempts, we gave up. Gwen told me she had been passing by to go to the shops, and that she found the girl in a quivering bundle on the step. And, apparently, she had been saying things along the lines of 'Girl with blue eyes'. Me. And when Gwen told her my name, she hadn't stopped whispering it under her breath until I arrived in the flesh.

I looked around helplessly into the pouring rain, hoping to see Martha returning home, but my gut told me she wouldn't be coming home for a while. I turned to Gwen.

"What do we do?" I asked over the pouring rain.

"She's been asking for _you, _Claudia, you tell me." she answered, looking as helpless as I felt. I looked at the girl at our feet; she was staring up at us with frightened curiosity. Gingerly, I got down on my hunches, levelling my gaze with hers.

"What do you want us to do?" I asked her gently, carefully keeping her trained on me. Her gaze shifted briefly to Gwen behind me, and she was grinding her teeth.

"Would you like me to go?" Gwen asked, speaking my thoughts. She didn't respond, only stared at me intensely. Despite the situation, I found myself getting frustrated. What did she want from me? What was I supposed to do for her? All I wanted was to get her out of this rain, get her warm, and then take her back to the foster home. She didn't belong out here. Out in the city, anything could happen to a child, and I speak from experience. There were people out there who would take advantage of her, no doubt about it. Out here, alone and defenceless, she was either going to get into the wrong hands or she was going to starve or freeze to death. The best part about it was that _I _was the best company for her, either. Hell, I had my own issues! But I desperately wanted to help her, it was just a matter of what to do.

Rising to my feet, I ran my hands through my hair, exasperated. Gwen gently grabbed my, soothing me softly.

"I'll go." She whispered. "Just let me know what happens." And then she disappeared into the rain. I stared after her, at a sudden loss, and I felt useless. What was I honestly supposed to do?

"C... C... Claud... ia." She trembled again, her teeth clattering together. "I'm... C... C... old." I turned slowly to her, mouth open, watching her in defeat. But then I gasped and swallowed. Hard. She had her arms stretched towards me, eyes pleading, hands trembling. So she had wanted Gwen to leave. She wanted me. But I felt anything but flattered. However, I wasn't going to leave her there. So, with caution, I bent down and took her into my arms, taking her from the ground and grabbing Gwen's coat as I did. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms around my neck. She clung to me as if life depended on it, and ironically, that was probably the case in the way she was behaving. Deep down, I knew that I needed to take her back to the foster home, but I also knew that she would fight me if I did. I looked in that direction. I was literally a two minute walk. If I ran...

I couldn't bring myself to do that to her, not again. She had her face buried in my neck, chilling my skin from the rain. Taking a shaky sigh, I strode into the building, dashing towards the stairs rather than taking the elevators. Too many people. Besides, no one ever took the stairs, so therefore I wouldn't be seen. The child's face was all over the news, so anyone who saw her would insist on taking her back. And, if caught, I would probably get accused of kidnapping.

No thanks.

After an excruciating amount of steps, I finally reached the top floor and fled to our apartment. Digging my keys from my handbag, I opened the door and fell inside, slamming it shut behind me. Alexandra flinched with the sound and clung to me tighter, nearly strangling me. Oh boy. I went over to the sofa, and my intention was to set her down, but she just wouldn't let go.

"Come on, sweetie, let go." I whispered. Limb by limb she did so, falling into the cushions that hugged her body. Her teeth were still clattering, making my heart clench uncomfortably. "Stay there." I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a town, and I was back before a single whimper could escape her lips. I draped it around her, taking Gwen's coat and putting it aside.

"I'm... hungry." She croaked shyly. She was being shy _now? _It made me smile, and I nodded at her.

"I bet you are."

Fifteen minutes later, she had a bowl of tomato soup in her hands, steaming hot. She downed it in less than ten minutes, no doubt scolding her tongue in the process. I watched her with pity, sitting on the floor in front of her with my legs crossed. There was no doubt about it that the last two weeks had been nothing but bad for her. She looked just as thin as the last time I'd seen her, her eyes still empty, her entire being looking shook out of proportion. I noticed her hands. They were coated in scratches, and beneath her nails were crimson. Had something happened to make her run again? Had she done it to herself?

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, handing me the bowl. Silently, I took it to the sink, getting a glass of water for her as I did. Once I returned, I got down to business.

"What do you want me to do, Alexandra?" I asked softly, watching her sip at the glass. She stared at me, frozen for a moment for it was the first time I had spoken since she told me she was hungry. She assessed me with a cool stare, debating whether to tell me. It was clear that she had yet to decide whether to trust me, and personally, that made me think she was one clever kid. When you looked at me carefully, I wasn't a treat to the eyes.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, her voice finally steady. I smiled.

"People are looking all over for you. You're not supposed to be here." I told her softly. "And you can't stay here, either."

"I don't want to go back." she said in a rush, stumbling over her words.

"Why not?"

"They hurt me." _now we were getting somewhere. _I frowned, looking at her hands again. Were those... _defence _wounds?

"Who?" I demanded, my voice now taking an icy edge. She swallowed.

"The other children. I did have one friend, he was called Chris, but they took him away." Her eyes watered. "They took him away from me. People came and took him away in a car. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with me." I realised that while she spoke, I took her small hand in both of mine, shushing her when the tears began to spill.

"He's gone to another family, darling. The place you live, it's where children live when they need another family. Nothing bad has happened to him." I told her as simply as possible, trying to calm her.

"But... he wanted to... stay. Like mommy." She sniffled. "They took... mommy away and she didn't... want to go. I never said... goodbye."

I came to the realization that her world was falling apart piece by piece. I already knew her father was gone, dead or alive I wasn't sure. Her mother taken from her, and I knew that she was in a hospital somewhere. She had been like me. She lost a loved one, her husband, and she had gone depressed. The only difference was that there had been no one to catch her while she tumbled into the darkness. All she had was her daughter, and apparently, she hadn't been enough. That thought angered and upset me. It angered me because her own flesh and blood wasn't enough for her, but it saddened me because, at the end of the day, what could a kid do? And now, in a place of new faces and environments, she had her one and only friend ripped away from her, too. As the cherry on top, the other kids weren't accepting her. In that moment, I felt for her, more than I did before. She was young, naive, but if someone didn't help, she would take a dark route later in life.

That could not happen.

"You know I can't help you." I said softly, wishing very much that my words weren't true.

"Why not?" she whimpered.

"Because I'm not any help for anyone." I said truthfully. In the past, the only kind of help I was able to offer was through violence. This girl didn't deserve to get mixed up into my world, even if it was somewhat perfect on the edges. I was yet to trust myself, for I hadn't completely recovered from past events. I was still suffering from the nightmares, of Rick, of mom and dad, of Martha. Deep down, I was still in a dark place. I was okay on the surface, but the dark part of myself was still there, waiting, ready to attack. She was there, sneering at me all the time, telling me to stop turning soft. She had been there earlier tonight with Cole, and it had taken every ounce of my strength to hold back on lashing out at him.

Everyone has a dark side. She's mine, but at least I have my reasons.

"I think you are." She murmured, wiping her tears away. "If not, then why am I here?"

I laughed darkly. "You're a smart kid." I said. "But you really shouldn't be here. I could get into trouble."

"Why?"

"There's a lot you don't know about me." I said. We stared at each other for a long moment. She was searching through my eyes, and for a moment, I thought she was mesmerized. But she collected herself, blinking frantically.

"I want mom." She said, and for reasons I wasn't sure of, my heart leapt into my throat. Those three words there told me what she wanted from me: she wanted me to find her mother. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the front door opened.

"Claudia! I need a word with you, _now!" _Martha bellowed, slamming the door shut. Crap. Before Alexandra could leap for me, I moved away, standing a few feet away from Martha. Indeed, she was fuming, trembling with rage. Holding up my hands, I willed her to calm down.

"We have a problem." I said. She opened her mouth to yell at her, but she choked on whatever she was going to say. Alexandra came to stand beside me, clinging to my arm and drinking in the appearance of my sister. It took Martha just a moment to take in what she was seeing, and when she did, she met my gaze.

"Yes. Yes we do."

* * *

With great effort, I kept Martha from ringing the foster home. I insisted that she would only run away again, and that there was no way she would go back without a fight. And, begrudgingly, she allowed the girl to stay for the night. Admittedly, I wasn't sure about that idea, either, but what else could we do? So, an hour after Martha returned, we got blankets and pillows for the sofa. Since her clothes were drenched, I gave her one of my hoodies. When she came out of the bathroom, her soaked clothes in her arms, she looked tiny within the hoody, which was a size to big for me. The hem fell down to her knees, and it would have to do.

Now, Martha and I gazed at the child who was now draped in blankets, snuggled into pillows and fast asleep on the sofa. Her clothes were on the radiator in Martha's room, and we had the gas fire on at a low temperature. Now that she was asleep, Martha grabbed my wrist and yanked me into her room, shutting the door behind us silently.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she snapped in a whisper.

"Playing the heroine in a happily ever after story. You know, find an orphaned kid at your door, see that they need help, and give them a brand new home and play happy families!" I hissed back. "What was I supposed to do? Leave her out there?"

"You could have taken her back to that damn foster home!"

"I told you! She'd have none of it!"

"Claudia, she can't _stay _here, you know that, right?" her hands were on my shoulders, her baby blue eyes smouldering with both admiration and anger. I sighed, dropping my head.

"I know. I just... couldn't leave her out there. This is the second time I've come across her in the last two weeks."

"She's done it before?"

"Yep."

"Jesus." She was stressed. Well, there had to be one in two siblings that screwed up what should have been a nice night. First push her buttons with Cole, then force her to tell Cole the truth of our past, and now bringing in a girl who we can do nothing for. Oh, how I love being the screw up.

Not.

"I'll call them tomorrow." I said solemnly.

"You'd better." She snapped.

"I'm sorry, okay? I was just... I don't know." But then she pulled me against her, hugging me close upon knowing my distress.

"I know. But you can't save everyone, sweetie. She's out of our hands. But that stunt with Cole was a step too far, you know." She said into my hair. I sighed against, looking up at her.

"He has a right to know what he's getting in to." I murmured. She released a sigh, planting a kiss on my forehead. She knew that as well as I did, so really, she couldn't stay mad at me for that. Deep down, I was curious to know how that conversation had gone.

"I told him." She said, answering my unspoken curiosity.

"Is he a runner?"

"Nope." _Oh? _"But I've only told him the outline of it. _You _can tell him the details." I pulled back, gaping at her in shock. No way! He wasn't my boyfriend! What the hell? But she smirked, glancing at the door and seemingly looking through it into the living room. "I was going to tell him in small doses, but then you pulled this stunt. So you kind of owe me."

A few beats past until I said, in defeat, "Well played."

* * *

**Yes? No? Maybe?**


	9. Author's Note Sorry

**Hey guys, I know I haven't updated for a few days, but I've had a few personal problems going on at home, so I won't updating for a while. I won't depress you with the details!**

**When things pucker up again, I will write again, but for now, all I can say is that I'm terribly sorry :(**

**Until then, it's a short goodbye from this story.**

**- Hollie**


	10. Figure It Out

**I'm back :) Thank you all for being so patient, it was much appreciated. Like every family, we were going through some rough spots, and I needed to focus on getting back on the right track before I could think at all about continuing this. And then I had my results (which I passed, YAY!) so that was stressful, and then it's been the lead up to college and getting ready (start Tuesday)! I would have starting writing sooner, but something terrible happened concerning a family friend, who unfortunately died after a long battle with cancer last week (may he R.I.P). **

**But now I'm back and raring to go, sorry if I'm a little rough around the edges of this story, bare with me! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

From what I could remember, I had fallen asleep sprawled on the floor. I had been watching over Alex up until the early hours of the morning, and with a little resistance, I flopped on my side and was suddenly out cold. However, when I woke up, I was sitting up, leaning against something, something very warm. It took me a moment to register the rise and fall of what my head rested against, the strong possession of arms around my small body, the warm breath against my forehead. I inhaled, my body warming something deep inside me, and I let my mind swirl.

"Peter." I whispered.

"Hey." He murmured, tightening his hold on me. I could feel his lips against my forehead, a loving gesture. "The floor looked ridiculously uncomfortable."

"I've been in worse places." I murmured, tilting my head up to look at his face. My room was still dark, but judging from the not so black sky outside, I guessed that we were closing in on dawn. I could see the gleam in Peter's eyes as he looked down at me, releasing me for a moment to brush my hair out of my face. He stared at me for a moment, one hand moving to my thigh and gently rubbing back and forth, setting my skin on fire. I was still in the God damn dress!

"You were dreaming." He said softly. I frowned. I had been dreaming, but it had been nothing pleasant. Flashes of it came back to me at his words, and I could remember staring down the barrel of a gun, my breath hitched, panic pulsing through my veins. This dream had been worse than the previous ones: Martha had been lying in a pool of her blood in the background, and the person who had the gun pointed at me was laughing, a sadistic laugh that gave me chills even in reality. Rick Hammond. I cringed, burying my face in Peter's chest. I couldn't escape him, even if he was in jail. It wasn't that he scared me, because he didn't, but it's what _that could have been_ that scared me. That was enough to break even the strongest of people.

"He's not coming back, I swear." Peter growled into my hair.

"I know." I croaked. He planted a soft kiss against my lips, a gesture which he did in an attempt to rid all of the bad. It didn't solve anything, but it did put a smile on my face.

And then I remembered the girl out in the living room.

"I'm guessing Gwen told you about the girl." I whispered, purposely lowering my voice. He nodded, his eyes suddenly guarded. He didn't approve. Of course he didn't, bringing that child into my life was something that shouldn't be done. She was none of my business, and I was meddling with what should be left alone. And yet, somehow, the girl wasn't letting me slip away, that much was for sure. And for as long as she wanted me, I was going to try and help her.

Before I fell asleep, I had stared at her for a long time. Martha had turned in early, exhausted from her somewhat tense night. I said I would go bed too, but that was only because I didn't want her staying up with me. I needed some time to myself, some time to think.

The girl made me realise something: my world was far from perfect. I could see her life shattering before me, the broken look in her eyes and the shockingly dark circles under her eyes. Seeing that kind of damage made me look at my own life as it was now. When I looked in the mirror, I could still see the screaming ghost of my former self, still see the deep agony in my eyes. Rick may have been gone, but he had hardly left me with little damage. The scares were there for life, the nightmares would always invade my sleep, the screaming girl from the past would always beg for release. Which begged the question: how was I supposed to help this little girl, when I had barely fixed myself?

"I hope you know what you're doing." Peter whispered. I sighed heavily.

"I don't have a clue what I'm doing." I said honestly. "I want to help her, I do, but how can I do that when I can hardly help myself?"

"Hey, you've been through hell-"

"So has she."

"_and _that's not going to go away in the blink of an eye. You and I both know that." he took my face in his hands, staring hard into my eyes. Tears blurred my vision, threatening to spill down my cheeks, so he leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine.

"I can't abandon her, Peter." I choked.

"I'm not asking you to. I just want you to figure it out before you act." He was right. I did need to figure it out. I needed to know what she wanted from me, and if I could give whatever she wanted to her. If there was no chance of helping her, then that would be when I turned my back and let fate do the rest. But if there was the slightest chance I could do something, _anything, _then I'd do it. I hated many people, trusted very few, but anyone who had felt any kind of pain remotely like mine, then I wouldn't turn my back on them without a second thought. I knew what it was like to be alone, to have no one there for you, and that was the worst kind of agony. At the time I thought it was good, thought it was safe, but at the end of the day, even the strongest of beings needed someone to lean on.

Furiously wiping my tears away, I looked back into his eyes. "You'll help me?"

"I'll _always _help you." he said, kissing me. His hand went into my hair, locking my face to his, his other hand teasing the skin of my thigh. I gasped into his mouth, the motion on his fingers surprising me and opening unspoken desires in me. I could feel that he was tracing hearts on my skin, a childlike motion but agonizingly pleasurable at the same time. He chuckled into my mouth, moving his hand down to my knee and entering the safe zone of my legs.

"I think you should wear short dresses more often." He whispered, effectively distracting me.

"And I think you need to slow down, stud." I murmured back, taking fist full's of his hair in my hands. I loved him, and I loved the way he sparked the fire inside me, but even I had boundaries when it came to Peter. Like any other boy three/coming four months into a relationship, he would want to take things further, but I wasn't just any other girl. Despite my burning desires, I wasn't there yet. _Yet. _Peter knew that and respected me for it, but he also wanted to see how far he could stretch my boundaries. For him, it was like walking on thin ice, and he got a guilty pleasure out of it. He loved tormenting me, and I loved receiving it, but I also managed to rein control.

Torment for torment.

He growled into my mouth, squeezing my knee before pulling me tighter yet against him. I got lost in his lips, the only time I allowed letting myself go for a moment, but I was pulled from my blissful session by the call of Alex's voice.

"Claudia?" she sounded frightened and exhausted. Instantly, I pulled myself from Peter who didn't protest, equally alert. Standing, I straightened my skirt and opened the door to my room, which had no doubt been closed when Peter had arrived.

"What's the matter?" I whispered. She was sitting up, her eyes fully alert and darting around the room. When she saw me, she flung herself from the sofa and dashed towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her head to my stomach. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"I had a bad dream. They were hurting me. They wouldn't stop." She croaked, sounding to be on the verge of tears. Sighing sadly, I got down to her level, looking up into her eyes as she gazed down at me. I now remembered that she was hurting at the foster care, that the other children hurt her, and I mentally told myself to take her there myself and not talk over the phone.

"No one's going to hurt you. Not now." I said sternly. She was quiet for a moment, searching for a lie no doubt. Seemingly hearing none, she held up her pinkie finger to me.

"Pinkie swear?" she demanded. I smiled, hooking my pinkie finger in hers.

"Pinkie swear. Now come on, get to sleep."

While I tucked her back into the blankets, her lids already closed, I spotted Peter in the doorway of my room, leaning on the frame. He was smiling, but it was a sad smile. Sad because he knew that things were more complicated behind the promise I was making. Sad because he knew I was going to have to hurt her tomorrow. But the smile was admiration.

Saying good night to her, knowing full well that she would be up again in a few hours anyway, I slinked back into my room with Peter, who had gone unnoticed. I closed the door.

"Maybe you should go." I murmured begrudgingly. He shook his head.

"No, I'm staying, you look like you could use the company." He pulled me against him, tucking my head under his chin and rubbing my back. "We'll figure it out." He promised, speaking of my unspoken worries.

"Together." I agreed.

Twenty minutes later, we lay on my bed, Peter holding me to him. His breath was warm and comforting on my neck, and I listened to the steadier they became as he drifted to sleep. I soon followed, my lids falling heavy as I snuggled into him. His arms around me, our legs tangled together, I felt content for the time being. With that security, I was able to sleep with nothing to torment my unconscious mind, for Peter always chased the nightmares away.

When I woke in the morning, I wasn't alone. Peter was gone, something he did before for the safety of his own being: if Martha caught him in my room during the night, there would be hell up. However, in his place, Alex lay under my white covers, looking tiny and peaceful in her sleep. Her hair was swept back from her face, one thumb in her mouth and her other hand beneath her head. I could see that her knees were tucked up to her chest, something that many children did as a sense of security. Sitting up, I frowned down at her, trying to comprehend as to whether I was dreaming or not. But she really was there, and despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but smile.

I could think about her hating me later.

* * *

**Yes, things are getting a little hot between Peter and Claudia, but don't worry, I'm not going to rush it. **

**Review!**


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